From Time to Time
by Tantilla
Summary: I was asked to do a sequel to Flatline. Have a short reminiscence from Zoruru.


Sometimes I stay up late, avoiding the temptation to join him in bed and catch up on much needed rest. I know Tororo wonders why I do this, but he never demands an explanation. His confusion is clearly written all over his face though, and it makes me feel guilty. It's a tolerable guilt though. I prefer it to the feelings of responsibility and failure that I get when he wakes me up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. He never notices, he is always still passed out cold, being tortured by whatever memories are haunting his mind. I simply lay there and listen to the pathetic sounds and occasional sobs that break loose in his sleep. I never bother asking Tororo what his nightmares are about. I already know, and even if I didn't, he wouldn't talk about them.

'It's all in the past' he would say. Sometimes I wonder if he really means what he says. Sometimes I think he is delusional, that he is burying it all away and trying to live in some false reality where the conflict with Kururu never happened. Maybe thats why he looked at me so strangely the few times I asked him about his nightmares. It was as if I were asking about something unheard of. It was the same look he would give me when I started staying up later and later.

I knew he thought I was avoiding him, and in a sense I was, but there was more to it than that. Leaving him to fend off the nightmares alone was one of the most shameful things I have ever done, and the guilt of it grew every night and began eating at my conscience. I simply couldn't deal with it though. All of my training, all of my practice on focus and discipline did nothing for me here. Sometimes I would hear him mutter out my name in to the silence of our room, and every time I found myself leaving the room and wandering the halls of our ship. I was desperate to get away from him because I knew what he was going through and I knew I couldn't help him.

I had been trained to kill quickly and silently. Forming connections with anyone was considered one of the greatest weaknesses a person could have, and now for the first time in my life I could see this for myself. I wanted nothing more than to help him, but the thought that I could do more damage than good kept me from giving Tororo the help he needed. I couldn't handle crying, I wasn't good with emotions. Tororo didn't make it any easier by blatantly denying that he needed help. I felt useless to him.

However, sometimes I would do something right that just seemed to prove me wrong.

Sometimes when I heard him blubbering in to the darkness in the middle of the night, I would run my cold metal hand over his cheek and he would calm down after a few minutes of the gentle petting. Long ago I would have teased him for his strange affinity to my robotic half, but now I found this to be quite the useful fact, and thanked whoever was above that gave Tororo this one bit of comfort when I felt there was nothing I could do. It calmed us both it seemed. He slept peacefully, and I was able to return to my rest with little guilt riding on my mind.

Sometimes he would awaken from his sleep and seek me out for comfort. I would never wish the nightmares on to Tororo. He did not deserve them, and I couldn't imagine the horrors that played in his mind of Kururu forcing him like he had, It had to be the worst kind of suffering if it reduced Tororo to such a desperate state. Despite this, I could not help feel just a little bit better about everything when Tororo would wake in the night and pull me from my own slumber, just to hear me curse at him and tell him what a fool he was being, that I was right there. Sometimes he would tell me to shut up in return and go right back to sleep now that he was curled in my arms. Sometimes the nightmares lingered a bit longer than that and he stayed awake for a while after that. We never spoke when this happened. There was no need to.

Sometimes it was I who needed the comforting. I would never admit this of course, not even to him, but sometimes I had my own nightmares and when I did they left me shaking in bed and staring at the celling in horror for however long afterwards. It always seemed like hours, but really it was only a few moments because Tororo would always wake up when I had my nightmares. I screamed when I did.

Tororo would roll over and drape an arm over me. He would tell me to shut the hell up before he kicked me out of his room. He would tell me how big of an idiot I was being, and that he was right there and not going anywhere. I could see right through his words. He was worried for me, even with he sleep addled brain.

Sometimes, when it got really bad for either of us, he would pull me close and mumble under his breath about how much he loved me.

Sometimes he would do this when he thought I was deep asleep, and I would startle him by muttering the same thing in return.

That always made Tororo smile, and that made everything worth while.


End file.
